MahouRomance
by TheLon3Wolf8986
Summary: Negi is a 20 year old college dropout who fights for a living, but has a hidden aspiration... to become a world famous writer. Luck though has never been on his side until now and it all comes down to one choice...
1. Chapter 1

Yeah I know long time no see, im trying my hand in a couple of things and hopefully you'll enjoy this one, so please read it and let me know what you think, bye

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The computer screen blinked as it waited for something, anything to happen.

Negi Springfield looked morosely at the picture of the girl that was taped to the side of his computer. She was smiling a giant smile with blond hair over her light green eyes. In the picture, she looked so happy, so joyous, of full of life. Who could tell that she was dead?

Negi stepped back from the computer as it blinked slowly on the table before him in the very center of the room. He looked around his tiny, studio apartment. The white walls were splashed with scattered light from his floor to ceiling windows that dominated the left wall, opposite the door. Behind him, the two closets sat, filled to the bursting point. Before him, across the table, was the bathroom and kitchen, with the small door that led to the shower.

Negi turned away from the monitor, looking over the room. It was messy, but not really dirty with kicked-away piles of clothes, roughly stacked magazines and half discarded musings while his literal attempts occupied the emptiness. With the hardwood floors and white walls, it seemed perpetually half-empty as his exhausted footsteps echoed in his ears.

"Damn!" He spontaneously shouted, kicking his denim jacket on the floor. The jacket slid across the slick wood floor, colliding with his frameless bed. He turned back around, at the small, minimalist weight-lifting bench, punching bag, and the mini-fridge that opposed the bed. "Come on!" He shouted to himself, his voice echoing narcissistically back at him.

He looked around his room, his eyes falling to the wall by the closet. For a moment, his tired eyes looked longingly to his gym bag. He looked to his left out through the windows, to the large building that he trained in, seeing the other enthusiasts out there, living their lives, rather than living someone else's death.

Negi stormed back over to his keyboard, leaning on the sides of the collapsible table. He looked down at the array of hand-written and hand-scribbled notes that were attached to every conceivable surface. Everything from notebook paper to the neon yellow of legal pads to napkins from fast food restaurants filled the table's surface. Everywhere, there were ideas. Except in his head.

"Damn!" He shouted again, throwing himself exhaustedly back from the computer. "Come on, damn it. Come on, Negi. Get with it." But as he dropped his hands from the sides of his head, he just stared at the monitor. The screen continued to slowly blink, as if reminding him of the wasted time that was passing by second by second. He watched the screen, as if mesmerized. But still, nothing came. He finally gave in and headed for the shower.

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With a sweep of his hand, Negi drove away the misty reminder of his shower, exposing the foggy sadness in his expression. With the white foam concealing his jaw, he tilted his head to the side, holding the blue shaving razor to his neck.

With a slow stroke, he drew a wide line across his face, exposing his slightly pale skin that meshed submissively with his light brown hair. The subsequent strokes by the razor cleared the foam away, leaving Negi staring at his own reflection.

Dressed in only his pair of black jeans and nothing else, he could see the splintered scars across his body that came from his hobbies and his lifestyle of being a fighter. Over his left eye, just in the corner, he could clearly see that an underestimation of reach of the fist had given him long ago, while its museum of siblings rested across his body. He put his shirt on and grabbed his gym bag, it was time to get ready.

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He sat back in the plastic booth of the plastic restaurant. The red and orange design made him sick, but he endured. He looked at the steaming, almost appetizing breakfast before him. He took the knife in hand and paired it with the fork. Slowly, almost unwillingly, he started to eat.

As soon as Negi got a mouthful of food to his lips, another former college student slid into the booth across from him. Negi looked up as the grinning rocker sighed out who stared right back at him. "Man, I had a great night." The radiant smile announced.

"Apparently, it isn't over, Chamo." Negi said, sitting up, pushing his short-cropped brown hair up and away from his eyes out of habit, not need. "You look you haven't gone to sleep yet."

"Got that right." Chamo shrugged. "You miss too much by sleeping, man. Besides, I hooked up with this girl, man. And she could . . ."

"Right." Negi said, swallowing nervously. "You said you wanted to get together this early so… what's up?"

"I've found a place we need to go check out." Chamo said, leaning across the table of the half-empty fast food stop as if he was whispering a great secret. "This place is supposed to have some great… music."

"Okay?" Negi acquiesced, raising an eyebrow and hoping to see why he was being taken along. "Where is it?"

"I'll take you there." Chamo answered with an infectious grin. "Come on." He said, getting up.

Negi shoveled the last of the eggs into his mouth and grabbed his dry biscuit with his bare hands. Stuffing the trash into the bin behind him as he followed Chamo, Negi shoved the biscuit into his mouth as he tore open his tiny container of orange juice and slung his gym bag over his shoulder. "So where is it that we're going?" Negi called after Chamo.

The strip club was a single, giant room. The large club was mostly empty as the morning crew was just getting things into gear. The cages and small stages around the expansive singular space were all empty, while the large, main stage that descended down into the room was occupied by a single woman dressed in a cheap plastic imitation of an angel.

"It's eleven-thirty in the morning." Negi grumbled loudly over the porn music as he sat back in the comfortable chair directly in front of the stage. "What are we doing here?"

"Research." Chamo called back, watching the girl as he leaned over to the balding accountant next to Negi. He turned back and joined the small population of depressed and dark-minded men who sat around the single stage. "When we get rich and famous," Chamo continued after a moment. "We'll have to remember places like these for comparison."

"Rich and famous?" Negi asked, annoyed. "I was barely able to afford my rent and breakfast this morning. And you wanted me to pay a fourteen dollars cover charge to get in here? To stare at these girls?" Negi sat back, his annoyance growing. "Chamo, this is stupid."

"It's not stupid." The wannabe fighter countered, disregarding the girl as she squatted down towards the right side of the platform. "This is the hottest club in the city. And I've heard, and you have too, that the "music" here is killer."

"Yeah, right" Negi argued as he grabbed his stuff to get ready to go. "Look, I have to get ready for the next fight and this," He pointed up to the girl as she ran her plastic wing between her legs. "Isn't going to help, I have to get to the gym."

"Look. Just cheer up, huh?" Chamo encouraged, hitting Negi on the leg. "Just enjoy this place, huh. This is a classy joint."

"That's a lie and you know it."

"You're bound to get some inspiration here." Chamo went on, undaunted by his friend's cynicism. "Besides, you're equally as bound to find a girl in here that you like."

"I hate you." Negi said, turning away from Chamo. "I hate you so much." He looked around away from the stage, at the dark mid-day strip club. Circulating throughout the entire establishment were half-naked girls dressed in cat or bunny ears, carrying drinks and snacks to front tables where the assorted lecherous men watched and, sometimes, grabbed.

Negi shook his head and turned back to the main stage as the song wound down. The girl, with her angel's wings in hand traipsed with exaggerated motions back to the curtains at the back of the stage as the song slowly wound to a thankful end. Negi rolled his eyes. "See!" Chamo said, hitting Negi again on the leg. "Tell me that wasn't fun?"

"That wasn't fun."

"You suck, dude." Chamo said, looking away. "Just chill for a little while. If it still sucks in half an hour, we'll jet."

"I'm going to hold you to that." Negi said, as the dim lights lowered a bit more. And slowly, rising up from the speakers around the club, Mark heard a familiar tone hit. He sat up, looking around. "That's the song..." He said with a quizzical look on his face. Slowly, the look turned into a smile. "What's it called?" As he spoke, his eyes traveled up to the stage in the center of the club, his anxiety immediately replaced with curious wonderment.

And there behind the curtains, Negi could see the shape of a woman.

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Well thats it, and maybe ill continue it if people review, but please review, oh and I dont own Mahou sensei negima, cool show though and well awesome manga


	2. Chapter 2

Well hello people who read but don't review. Yes im talking to the 70 plus people who read this and said, "blah" and left. Well you might not like it and go ahead and flame me. No seriously flame me. Why do you ask. Becuase i know that after you keep flamming it, chapter after chapter, you will eventually like it. Or maybe some part of you already has since you've kept reading it even after you flame it. Well anywho, thank you to the 2 people who actually reviewed. Thank you very much and hopefully you enjoy this one. Mostly dialouge but it will pick up, i promise. Also Do you want to see the fights or not? and who are your fav pairings. As you will see im already establishing the first pairing but it doesn't necessarily mean that it will stay that way. Oh and tell me if you actually know who it is. One line should definetly give it away. Well i got ot go, hope you enjoy!!! Oh and i dont own Negima or anything related to it. So dont sue!!!

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A slow tone of notes hit, resonating throughout the club, bringing to life the ageless men. Negi rose in attention like the rest of them, his eyes and hopes going wide as the music toned again.

"Alright, gents." Came a voice over the intercom system, trying but unable to drown out the growing beat of the music. "You came here to see her, so here she is. Give it up for Miss Sweet N. Sour!"

The hoops and hollers that filled the air made Negi even sicker, but they were an after-thought to him. He stared ahead at the stage as the curtains parted just a few feet, but it was enough.

His jaw dropped.

She had long red hair down to her waist, tied in two very loose ponytails; Bells strapped to each one. Dressed in what looked like a thick, one-piece bathing suit, she turned towards the audience, the act making clear her firm, sculpted arms and legs as she directed her vision out to the front of the stage, as if directly towards Negi and Chamo.

"Told ya." Chamo said, glancing over at Negi, smiling at the look on his face. But Negi didn't hear him. Truth be told, he was barely aware of Chamo at all.

The woman on top of the stage took her first step, her cadence matching the growing music vibrantly as she stalked her way proudly towards the end of the stage, her body held ready and strong. Negi's eyes blinked in the heavy, smoky air, staring in disbelief. The woman seemed to stare right back at him, and then smiled. She turned away, her figure becoming more obvious.

Negi had trouble swallowing.

The girl turned around completely to grab hold of the metal pole that was in the center of the stage. She swung around it, her head hung low so her hair swung out past her outstretched hand, brushing the faces of the patrons who got too close to the edge of the stage. As the red braid swept over one man's face, Negi found himself getting more captured. He pulled himself back from the dance performance and back from the song, to stare up at the beauty that had grabbed his attention.

The sultry dancer moved with a jaguar's precision, her movements active and energized, but all incredibly enticing and almost playful. She didn't bother with some type of theme like the previous dancer; she simply danced to the music.

A hand.

Negi looked two seats down as an older businessman reached up past the dance floor's border, his hand flared greedily out. And as the dancer stepped back from the side of the stage that she had enticed dramatically, the business man almost grabbed a hold of the back of her swimsuit, reaching to pull the lower end off.

"Take it off!" He shouted, getting hollers of support from around the stage.

Negi was up before he was prepared for it, stepping past the two tables between him and the old man, grabbing the offending hand. He pushed the hand back, prepared for the right hand to come swinging around to punch him right in the face, and ducked under it delivering a blow of his own.

For being a middle-aged businessman, the guy could take a punch, and took another strike from Negi to the chin. The middle-aged man was knocked off his feet as he crashed down onto the table behind him. The cheap wooden legs gave way and Negi was treated to the sight of the table breaking underneath the man.

Negi landed on top only to look down as he mounted on top of the businessman, pinning his shoulders and arms to the ground. The middle-aged man looked up with a dazed, confused look to see the circle of heads gathering over the middle-aged man who had been pinned by the college student.

Pain racked the left side of his face.

Negi's world was bland; red and whites filling his vision. He rolled his head back around to see the same circle of faces, the same as older man under him. But through the vision that seemed displaced and unreal, he could see the girl on the dance floor staring down through the crowd of faces, a worried and horrified expression on her face. But still, even with the worried gaze on her face, she still stared with the same coy half-smile, the same enigmatic expression on her face.

But as Negi looked, he saw in painfully slow motion as the businessman's hand corrupted his view of her. He turned to the man as his arm cocked back again. Negi felt nothing as he looked down. There was no anger or embarrassment, just a vague feeling of numbness that always accompanied him when he fought.

As the Negi's hand came rushing down, Chamo reached and grabbed his right arm before his fist could contact with the man's face. Negi pushed the Chamo back with his left arm, the act causing the two to fall back with Chamo still holding his arm. The crowd around the fight surged with the sudden shift in the situation, keeping a tight rein on the events.

Negi ended up on Chamo, holding him down by his shoulders. But as the writer looked again into the older man's eyes, he saw fear and embarrassment and resentment and jealous and . . . and . . . distance?

The bouncers held Negi in the air, giving him a clear view of the ceiling. But off to once corner of his vision, he could see the dancer, still once again watching with her strange womanly mix of concern and amusement.

The next thing Negi felt was feeling the broadside of his body slamming down onto the hard floor of the club.

Negi got up quickly as he dusted himself off and looked up to see the giant form of the bouncer standing over him, arms relaxed but with an angry look on his face.

"My name's Takamichi." The bouncer said with a deep voice as hard as the unforgiving pavement that Negi landed on. "I'm the head of security at this establishment. Now, as you may have noticed, we have some decidedly rousing music that we play." He shifted, folding his heavy, muscular arms over his thick chest almost twice as wide as Negi's. "In addition to that feature to our fine establishment, we also offer only the highest quality of entertainment."

Negi stumbled out a nod as the sights and sounds began to sink in again.

"Now, such excellent entertainment and such stirring music inspire so many people to come to our fine establishment. But they can get a bit out of control." He gestured to himself with a trite smile. "That's where I come in. And as I am the head of security for this fine establishment, you must understand that I simply can not allow anyone to disrupt our reputable and esteemed dancers and musicians." Takamichi leaned in close, staring into Negi's determined eyes. "Do I make myself clear?"

Negi nodded as he replied with a, "Yes sir," and turned around to leave.

"Excellent." Takamichi said, sitting up straight. He smiled a big, toothy smile. "I'm glad to see we understand each other."

"Good job, Springfield." Came a familiar voice. Negi rolled his head around to see Chamo standing behind him, his hands stuffed in his pockets. "I'm guessing this was your first time at a strip club?"

"You know, I'd really like to thank you for this." Negi said, helping himself up to his feet. "This was all really quite special."

"Hey, come on." Chamo grinned. "Now you can say you've been to a strip club."

"Yeah, and almost getting carted off to jail." Negi protested, getting to his feet.

"Hey. Maybe that's a new story for you." Chamo said, turning as he arrived at his car. He pulled the driver's door open and smiled at Negi. "Come on, man. Let's get some lunch."

"I'll pass, thanks." Negi said with an overly polite grin. He dropped the sarcastic façade and looked away. He breathed out some frustration and embarrassment and just turned back to Chamo. "Look, man. I'll meet you on Thursday at the gym."

"Negi, don't be a dick. Get in." Chamo said, sighing in exasperation.

"Look, I've had a bad enough day already and it's not even noon." He argued. "I'm not in the mood to go out, I got to work out, get ready for tonight's fight, and I don't have the money for it anyway."

"I'll pay." Chamo offered.

"Look, screw it." Negi said, stepping back from the car. "Go. I'm not going to be good company, so just go and I'll see you on Thursday."

Chamo loitered for a moment, and then just shook his head. "Man, it was one fight." He grumbled disappointedly, sliding into his car. The thick eighties sports machine roared to life as Negi stepped back. With an unnecessary squeal of the tires, the large, spray-painted red car rolled off into the lazy mid-week traffic.

Negi watched the car roar off, then turned away, an annoyed look on his face. It was only by luck that he glanced back at the club, to see Sweet and sour standing at the employee's entrance, staring so enigmatically right at him.

Negi was nearly blue in the face when he realized he needed to breath. With an explosive gasp, he stepped forward onto the small road that lead away from the club, as the woman stood on the second step of the employee entrance on the side of the building. Dressed in a black trench coat that was pulled tight, she had a small black bag swung over her left shoulder as she seemed to wait just for Negi.

The slow steps across the parking lot of the club were murderous, but before Negi took another breath, he found himself before the steps of the club and before the piercing gaze of the dancer as she smiled so politely at him.

Negi stopped right before her, the distance of two steps between them. 'This is it'. He thought. 'I've got to say something intrepid and quick-witted, something not quite romantic, but not too light. I've got to say something as captivating as her eyes. That's it, her eyes. I've got to say something really charming about her eyes and about how they…"

"Hi." He whispered.

'Idiot! That was supposed to be captivating and intrepid? And where was the part about her eyes?'

"Hi." She answered with the same smile. "I'm Sweet N. sour." She said, holding out her hand. Negi looked down at her delicate, but strong hand, the idea of shaking it taking a minute. Finally, though, he mustered up the manual coordination to take her hand and shake it. "Not much of a talker, are you." She laughed, as he still held her hand.

Inside Negi's head, his heart melted. 'What a gorgeous laugh!' He thought. 'This woman is stunning. Why the hell's she working here?'

"Why do you work here?" He asked.

'Way to go. Real sensitive, you dope.'

"I like it." She answered with a smile, unbothered by the question. "It's good money, I know the staff, and I get to keep all the costumes." Negi blinked at her. "That was a joke." She clarified.

"Oh. Okay." He got out. Another awkward moment passed as she stood on the step, staring expectantly at her. Finally, he stepped back, shaking his head. He took a quick moment, then looked up again at the woman. "Sorry. I'm just out of it. Low blood sugar and all that."

"I see." She said with the same capturing smile. "And you are?"

"Sorry." Negi laughed as he blushed in embarrassment. "I'm Negi, Negi Springfield."

"I would have remembered seeing you, Negi." Sweet smiled. "What brought you here today? At this hour?"

"The all-you-can-eat cheesecake." He answered quickly with something close to a laugh. "No, a friend brought me."

A knowing smile crept across Sweet's face as she nodded slowly. "Sure. It's always a friend."

"No, really." Negi defended. "My friend wanted me to come to hear the 'music'."

"Ah ha." Sweet nodded, swinging her hair so that it hung over her left shoulder. "And you came to 'hear' the 'music'?"

Mark groaned. He took a step to the side to lean against the brick wall that formed the side of the building. "I know it looks bad, but that's not really why I came here."

"I see." Sweet smiled. "Well, why did you come here? What were looking for?"

"Nothing, but…" he paused as he looked at her, "I found something I never would have imagined."

"Would that have been a drunken fight with a regular customer who's threatening to sue you and the club I work for?"

"That's one of them, yes." Negi laughed nervously. "And look, I'm sorry about disrupting your dance and all that. I really am. But he was trying to grab your . . ."

"I saw, Negi." She smiled. "And thanks. But you made Takamichi work. And he doesn't like working."

"Hey, if I could have avoided making him mad at me and throwing me out, I would have, but I didn't even know he was there and I saw Doctor Roadkill for hair reaching for you." He smiled sincerely. "Sorry for messing everything up."

"Thanks just the same." Sweet smiled. She looked around in the parking lot as a warm afternoon wind came up from the highway, brushing her hair back behind her back. Negi stared up at her, watching the wind, captivated again.

Sweet looked down to him, seeing his subtle smile, it's power infectious. "What?" She asked with a short laugh.

"You." Negi said, sighing sadly. "You're absolutely beautiful."

The coy, constant smile that Negi had been so captured by faded for a moment. The woman before him on the steps of the club looked down at him with a troubled glance, but then she smiled again. "Where's your friend?" She asked with a soft voice.

"He left." Negi said. "Probably for the best. Lord knows what trouble he might have gotten me into."

"Oh, you seem quite capable of getting yourself into trouble." Sweet countered.

"Not exactly. Trouble just seems to find me." Negi parried.

"So," She asked after a moment, her smile less secure than it was a moment a go. "If he left you, then how are you getting home?"

"I'm not heading home" He answered, leaning up from the white-painted brick wall. "I've got a fight tonight. Fighting being my only means of finance I have to show."

"I guess you do." She laughed. "So you're a fighter and poor." Sweet summed up with the sultry expression he had seen on the dance floor. "So, does this mean that you're not any good?"

"Maybe." Negi shrugged. "But I prefer to think that I just haven't found the right ass to kiss."

"But if you're good, shouldn't you be successful, at least marginally?"

"No." Negi said casually, shaking his head. "Talent and skill have little to do with success in this world." He looked back at the club, then stepped towards the woman, putting his hand disarmingly on the railing of the steps. "Um, do you guys hire?"

"Looking for a job?" She asked, one eyebrow rising.

"Yeah." Negi said. "I mean, the Security in there's terrible." Negi tried to joke, but the woman across from him just continued to smile that coy little gaze. "Look, I'd make a good bouncer, I've got something that can be mistaken for a glare and I know how to handle a crowd."

"A few minutes ago, you were having trouble stringing together more than three words." Sweet pointed out.

"Yeah, well, that was the first time I got to see your eyes this close." Negi smiled sincerely. "You really do have lovely eyes."

"I see." Sweet smiled. Negi blinked at her, taken back by her disinterest in his comment. She looked out again, considering the parking lot. She turned back to Negi, her smile's strength renewed. "So, do you fight nearby?"

"Just a few miles down the road." Negi answered, stepping back from her. "I suppose I could walk, if I felt up to it."

"Have you had any lunch?" She asked.

"Not recently." Negi answered, getting a puzzled look on his face. Her questions suddenly worried him just a bit.

Sweet looked back at the club, then back to Negi. "Well, you know, I'm off for the day. We could go grab a bite to eat before your fight, if you'd like?"

Negi's heart melted. "I, I really wish I could." He answered, looking down at the parking lot pavement in utter embarrassment. "But I can't."

"Oh? Why not?" Sweet asked. Negi looked up at her, unsure if she was taunting him, or genuinely concerned.

He laughed, disregarding the thought. "Because I have to get ready for the fight that starts in a few hours."

"Wow." She said, a sincere, concerned expression on her face. Negi couldn't tell which gaze he liked more. But in a flash, it recovered and she was smiling coyly, knowingly again. "Well, since you look like the type that likes to be on time, let me at least take you there."

Bright lights flashed over the ring as the fighters swayed in the large cage. The population of the audience of the fight club screamed, booed, oohed to the fight, keeping the crowd in a frenzy.

In the locker room, known as the 'Den', in the floor over the fighting cage, Mark stood before the mirror, piles of scars pulled out and cluttering his body. He wiped the heavy sweat from his brow as he stood over the dull white sink, trying to focus in the heat.

The fighting cage was a circular world, with no entrances, and two opponents that faced each other. A circular level went around the room where the seats and tables were filled, while three progressively smaller levels rose up, until the final level was almost on par with the locker room.

He looked to his left, grabbing his gloves and his trunks. Mark no longer bothered scanning the locker for things he needed. He automatically knew where it was.

He slid the glove over his hand, then turned to the mirror, setting up his stance. He grabbed the almost-empty bottle of water and finished it off before he threw a couple of jabs, getting ready for his upcoming match.

As the crowd died down, the t.v. feed brought into play the winner of the match. He sighed as the fusion of music and cheers passed through the walls, the change maintaining the intensity inside of him. He turned and began to swing around for the next set he had chosen for today's "Kata". There was a knock and he turned around, pulling his hood off his head. Behind him, the door opened up and a small, Vietnamese guy hoped into the booth, nodding to Negi. The fighter hit the locker door to close the red light locker, grabbed his water bottle and started towards the stairs at the back of the locker room.

"Here's the new fight list." The backstage manager said, holding a clipboard to Negi. Negi glanced at the board pushed into his hands and nodded. He would be fighting Kotaro tonight. He handed it back and thumbed the door handle. "Everything's ready. Just watch the crowd. It's more jumpy than usual tonight." The manager reported. With that, Negi nodded and headed down the stairs.

The sweat-stained fighter slumped down into the metal seat, the sweat on his face and in his hair making him cold almost immediately. He leaned back, taking a moment to relax his mind before the fight.

"Springfield."

Negi sighed resiliently and looked up as a man in a black hoodie sweater sat down. He wore a dark blue trunks with a colored white trim that mismatched his black sweater. "How you doing?" He asked, sitting down in the chair next to Negi.

"Pretty good." Negi said, swallowing another gulp of water from the refilled bottle. "You know how it is."

Kotaro looked back at Negi. "I understand, man. I really do. Good luck on your fight."

"Thanks." Negi said, sitting back, holding the bottle of ice water to his forehead.

"How's the writing business treating you?" Kotaro asked. "I heard you and Chamo had a bit of a spat today."

"Chamo has no grasp of what it's like to be poor." Negi said. "He wanted me to shell out fourteen dollars to go to that dance club downtown, the one that's a strip club in the afternoons. He thought it would give me more experience for writing stories."

"Nobody said Chamo was bright." Kotaro smiled. "But the boy is . . . enthusiastic, though."

"I don't know." Negi said rhetorically, leaning forward. "I've got to do something. I dropped out of college to pursue life, but all I seem to be doing is hanging in there. I don't feel like I'm moving towards anything."

"It's because you've got no goals, Negi." Kotaro said without reservation, looking around towards the crowd as he considered every small detail of what he saw.

"Sure I do." Negi protested. "I want to write a best seller. I want to be recognized as a major writer. I want to contribute to literature in general."

"I want, I want, I want." Kotaro retorted, looking back at Negi. "Well, you've got that covered. What's next?" The darkly dressed fighter leaned forward, leaning close to his friend. "If all you want is to want, then you've already accomplished every goal in your life. But if you want to achieve, then you've got to set out to do that."

"How?" Negi asked.

"I don't know." Kotaro shrugged, sitting back. "I'm not in the writing industry. I wish I was, believe me. I'd love to make millions of dollars a year. Right now, I'm lucky to eek out what I do with this place and my occasional side project."

"So I guess there's no chance for me, huh?" Negi laughed.

"I don't know." Kotaro said directly. "But I could be talked into giving you a no-interest, long-term loan."

"While I might be enticed to take you up on that," Negi laughed. "I don't know if I'd be good for it."

"Oh, I know you'd be good for it." Kotaro said with a grin. "Whether or not you had the money's something else. But I'm not at the point of starvation yet. If you need some dough, I can spot you."

"Springfield, you're up!" came from the corridor leading to the cage. Negi stood up and began heading to the ring. He stopped and turned around at Kotaro. "Thanks for the talk and the offer but… no." Negi looked at Kotaro with a stern confident gaze, "We still on for practice tomorrow?"

Kotaro nodded and smiled as Negi turned and made his entrance to the cheering crowd.

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Well... it will get better... i promise, stop with the tomato throwing!!!!!! Well anyway what do you guys think, Who else deserves a shot at Negi? What other pairings to you guys see? and do you think i should write the fight scene? well anyways hope for more than just 2 reviews, please? k bye till next time!!


	3. Chapter 3

Hey how is everyone?!!!! Well as you can see this is the third chapter of my story. So far very few people are reviewing which is okay i guess, hopefully as my story continues more people will review and review. Anywho like I said, there is no set couple in this story although im starting with one that everyone uses. You'll see, but that doesnt mean there wont be someone else. If you want i would appreciate if you would at least tell me what other paring you would want to see, even if it is an anonymous review. Any other girls from class 3A that you would like to see pair with Negi? Let me know and they could possibly be next. Well on to the show and... I DO NOT OWN NEGIMA! So don't sue!!!!! Oh and Reminder "THIS IS AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE" story, so just go with it.

" " - Speaking

' ' - Memories or thought speak

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Negi blinked as he jumped back from the blow, as blood began to flow down his face. His opponent threw a couple of quick jabs aimed at his wound over his left eye and as Negi attempted to lower his head and pull back he felt two of the jabs connect with his injury.

Their hearts were racing as the two fighters' regarded one another. Negi threw a quick combination of jabs and hooks but was surprised when he was pinned down to the ground. Despite his present struggle Negi was slowly being pulled to that cold December day and time began to slow down as the sights, smells, and sounds began to fade away.

'Pressed against the brick wall he heard her scream through the night's chilly air.'

An arm wrapped around his neck as he struggled for position, Negi slowly turning blue, as he fought for every breath.

'He could feel the cold steel as it penetrated. Felt the warm gush of blood as they pulled it out and the sickening crack as they swung a lead pipe over his head.'

As they tumbled forward Negi freed himself from the chokehold and grabbed his opponents arm as he rolled on top of him and straddled him.

'Struggling to crawl, he forced himself to move forward, he had to get to her. Had to know if she was alright and so he forced himself to look up. Tears began to swell in eyes at the sight.'

His eyes were wide as he pulled back his fist and let it fly towards his opponents face, landing with a sickening thud. The sound of his fist meeting with a human's skull was the only thing that resonated through his mind. He pulled back his other fist and continued to pound his fist to his opponents head.

'I should've saved her! I should've fought them off! I should've-'

His opponent lay there concussed as Negi was tackled by the referee to stop the match and further injure his opponent. The roar of the crowd was deafening as they declared him the winner. He slowly stood up and observed the people as they chanted his name. He slumped his head and began to make his way out of the cage. It was a short fight but all he wanted was to go home.

As he made his way to the locker room, he could still hear the chanting of his name, and the scream for his help from that cold December day. Looking down to his chest he could see the scar where the knife had punctured his lung and had nearly cost him his life and yet a single tear rolled down as he wished not for the last time that maybe it should have killed him.

Once he fought his depressing memories away he found a small envelope with an invitation to a small benefit for the arts. Negi smiled as he read the words on the back, "To get you started on that dream – Kotarou." Negi smiled as he closed his locker and made his way out the door.

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Takamichi looked up as Negi opened the door to the club. The tired fighter stopped at the sight of the doorman, but with a breath he pressed on up to the entrance desk. Takamichi straightened his tie and smiled a rehearsed expression. "Welcome to Club Mahora. How may I help you?"

"I'm just coming by to see the girls." Negi said, trying to stay friendly and unimposing. He held up fourteen dollar bills. "I got paid last night."

"Wednesday's an odd night to get paid." Takamichi said. "But either way, I'm afraid I can't admit you, seeing as you were 'forcibly removed' on your last visit."

Negi lowered the money and looked around at the empty waiting area. He smiled to himself slowly shaking his head. "How can I make this happen?" He asked. "I just want to get in to see Sweet for a few minutes. That's all."

"Why?" Takamichi asked, his deep voice almost vibrating deeper than the music in the next room.

"To say thanks, that's all." He said honestly. "Five minutes, I swear that's all I need."

Takamichi looked at the young musician for a moment, paused, and took hold of the separating rope that cordoned off the main room. "I'm afraid I can't accept money from someone's who's been forcibly removed." He took down the rope, but stepped in front of the doorway. Negi stiffened at the sight of the large man, but he didn't backup. Takamichi reached up with pronounced movements and lowered to look Negi right in the eyes. "Five minutes. Understand?"

Negi smiled and nodded.

Club Mahora was a bit livelier than Negi had remembered. Several girls shared the main dance floor while the music seemed a bit more up beat and appropriate. Meanwhile, around the room in the smaller stages and in the few cages that lined the rear wall near the bar, different girls danced around, captivating the few men at each station with their motions.

Negi spotted the single girl in the black swimsuit and headed towards the cage. Only one man was around her, his attention torn away by the free food bar.

He strolled up to the cage and coughed, stopping just before it. The steel dancing prop was suspended from the ceiling; it's floor coming just below his waist. The circular container was lined with gray metal bars that were thin enough to allow for very little obstruction.

Sweet turned at the cough, her body continuing to sway to the melodious techno that pumped in over the speakers. "Hi." She said with the same, confident smile.

"Hey." Negi replied as his heart began to race and tried to keep it calm. "I wanted to come by and say thanks for yesterday."

"It was good for me, so don't worry about it." She answered, bending over a bit, turning the man at the other side of the cage around to pay attention again. Negi fought the urge for his eyes to lower with her motions, but he managed to keep his eyes on her eyes.

"Look, that Takamichi guy only gave me five minutes, so I've got to run." Negi reached into his pocket and pulled out a five wrapped around a piece of paper. "My cell phone's got some minutes now, so give me a call sometime." He smiled, slipping the paper into the cage before he turned and left.

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The water that came down from the faucet head waved slightly from warm to hot, but Negi ignored it. He scrubbed his hair as thoroughly as he could, inhaling the misty steam of the shower as he tried to relax and calm down. Through the glass door of the shower, he could see the red display of his clock. The benefit wasn't too long from now.

Three loud bangs startled him back to reality. Negi spun the shower controls the wrong way, causing the water turn even hotter. He jumped out of the stream before the water could burn him and turned the controls back the other way to silence the stream as another barrage of knocks sounded through the small apartment.

"Hold on!" Negi shouted, as he stumbled out of the shower with a towel wrapped around his waist. He skidded into the living room on wet feet and discarded the blue contraband covering as he grabbed up his pants and slid into them, not even zipping them up as he opened the door to see Kotarou in a suit with a dry-cleaning bag over his shoulder.

"Hey." Negi said, opening the door halfway, a surprised look on his face.

"I thought you mind need this." The Kotarou said, holding a bag out to Negi. Across the back of it, the dull words of 'Raskil's Tuxedo's' were written in crimson on silver. Negi looked up at his friend, still dazed. "It's a tuxedo." He said. "Get dressed. We've got a dinner to make it to."

The driver stood on the last stair at the bottom of the stairwell, staring out at the nighttime-encased parking lot. He slid his hands into his pockets, only to hear a few steps from behind him. He turned around to see Negi and Kotarou coming down the stairs. Traditionally cut, but still impeccably designed, the tuxedo brought out a feeling of dignity that Negi didn't know he had.

"I told him about your parking lot." Kotarou preempted before Negi could say anything. They simply headed down into the parking lot leading Negi down the steps and away from the building. The group stepped out of the building in unison and started the trek towards the limo on the other side of the parking lot. Negi slipped on his reading glasses, glancing over at his friend. Kotarou didn't say anything and simply resigned himself to the walk.

"So, how did you pay for these things?" Negi asked after a moment as they walked in awkward silence. "I mean, do you even have money to pay for this?"

"Don't worry about it." Kotarou answered, never more than glancing away from the car. "The dinner costs like a thousand bucks or something outrageous like that and the money goes to some local charity."

"Oh." Negi paused and began fidgeting with his tuxedo jacket. "This may not be a good idea then."

"I'll be fine." Kotarou smiled. He looked over at Negi, smiling in amusement that made him uncomfortable. "Think of it as an investment. Now about the dinner… all you have to do is go in there and try to talk to everyone you can. The trick to these parties is to remember that A) everyone there makes more money in a week than you will in a year and B) there isn't one person there who can't help you in at least some small way."

"You've been to these before?" Negi said, mildly surprised.

"Of course," Kotarou laughed. "I've been to a couple of these and spoken to a few directors, producers, and publishers when I've been to these."

"Care to share those names?" Negi asked, half-joking.

"Why?" Kotarou asked, looking at him. "You're about to meet all of them tonight."

Negi put his glasses back on, staring through his naked eyes of the limousine. He looked over at the small, but convenient bar to his left, stocked with assorted snacks and drinks. He sat back, taking in the whole space of the large car.

Almost nervously, he put his glasses back on, focusing on simply breathing. "You know," Negi said to his friend. "I always thought the first time I'd be in a limo, I'd already be successful, not going to try and be successful."

"Funny how that always works don't you think?" Kotarou smiled.

Negi smiled as well and looked around again. He caught his reflection in the windows as the city flashed by. He reached up to take his glasses off again.

"Leave 'em." he looked up to see Kotarou staring back at him. "Leave the glasses. They'll make you look more serious." Negi lowered his empty hands.

The door to the limousine opened, the light from the gala taking Negi by surprise. He stood up just outside the door and looked at Kotarou next to him. The young man smiled and glanced down the red carpet that waited for them. Beyond the limo, a line of calm photographers waited, a few snapping shots of the two friends. He looked at the other fighter, smiling nervously. "It's like a movie premier on valium."

"Well, this isn't that big of a deal and we are about half an hour early." The other fighter explained. "We can catch some people as they wait in the lobby. It's good for casual talks about things like art, music, literature, movies." The driver closed the door behind them, forcing both to step forward away from the limo. Negi looked puzzled at Kotarou, "Speaking from experience?" His friend just smiled as he waved at the cameras. "I've been offered a few roles before." Kotarou said. Negi turned back to him with a surprised look. "You never said anything about that." He muttered in shock. "Why didn't you tell me?" Kotarou simply shrugged as he turned to look back at him. "Didn't take the parts, so I figured why even say anything."

Negi turned from his friend and took a deep breath. He took a few steps, expecting anything but a few flashes as photographers got snap shots of him. But when he kept walking, they went back to their work of readying their cameras for the next local celebrity.

They headed up the steps of the convention center, to find the bronze and glass doors held open for him by doormen. He looked at the two then headed in, trying to stay objective and calm. Inside the convention center the marble floors shimmered with an unusual shine while the walls were done up with ribbon and testaments of how much the charity had done for the local community.

Both stopped at a bulletin board near the doors that they had just entered, a poster that showed a young girl with braces and a violin, looking at them with a smile. "The Kansai Charity helped me to play my violin." Negi read from the poster and laughed to himself. "That's a viola, not a violin."

He shook his head and turned towards Kotarou and to the main ballroom of the convention center. Through a pair of large wooden double doors, the friends found a large room done up extravagantly, with gold trim, from the chandeliers to the chairs pushed into the ornate tables. And standing just behind the doors was a wooden podium where a young woman in a conservative, but still form-fitting blue dress waited, considering the guest card. Negi swallowed hard as they headed towards her, smiling as they approached.

Once Negi was within a few feet of her, she looked up, smiling a familiar, coy smile.

Sweet N. Sour looked up from the podium at Negi.

Negi stared for a moment, his eyes locked in horror while his mind went through a progressive shut down and restart in an attempt to try and figure what just happened. He finally blinked, shocked to see the stripper from yesterday staring at him equal horror.

"You're . . . you're you!" He finally got out.

"You were . . ." The young woman exclaimed, staring in equal shock.

"I'm guessing you two have already met?" The two broke their gaze simultaneously as Kotarou spoke up from within the room. He turned to Negi for the moment. "Is everything alright?"

Sweet looked from Kotarou to Negi. Negi looked at his friend and suddenly broke out into a nervous smile. "Yeah..." He said, rubbing the back of his head. "We've met before."

"Oh, you have? Please introduce her." He turned and held his hand towards the girl. "The name is Kotarou Inugami."

"Asuna Kagurazaka" She suddenly piped in. "And we both just recently met, isn't that right Negi?"

"I see." Kotarou nodded understandingly before smiling politely at Negi. "I hope that we can meet again. I know there are some very good friends of mine just waiting for me inside so I'll go, bye."

"No, no." Negi said, waving his hand. "Don't leave me alone."

"Bye" Kotarou replied as he waved with a smile. "Enjoy the company."

For a moment, Asuna looked at Negi with puzzlement, but then she smiled. "I'm guessing you're suffering from abandonment issues?" She laughed, looking at Negi and eliciting a small laugh from him. She looked back at Negi with a please and congenial smile. "I was wondering when I would see you again." She said, before she looked away with a blush.

"So did I." He added, blushing just as deeply. He looked around at the grand ballroom, then to Asuna again. "I have to say, this is the last place I'd expect to bump into you." She looked up at him, but the confident expression he had so quickly gotten used to seeing on her face was gone. Now, she stared at him with concern and a bit of worry. She considered him for a moment, and then tried to recover some of her professional façade. "What are you doing here?" She finally asked.

"I'm here for the dinner." He said. Asuna got a defensive look on her face. "My friend, Kotarou, got me a ticket and everything." He said, looking at the reservation list on the podium. "Negi Springfield. I think."

Asuna looked standoffishly at Negi for a moment longer, but then she looked down to the list. She flipped a page, then a second, and then looked back in surprise. "Here you are right next to Kotarou." She whispered in mild shock. She looked up at Negi and tried to smile a weak smile. "Here." She said, holding out the credit card-sized guest card. "Just keep this with you."

Negi reached out for the card, but just before his fingers touched the golden plastic, Asuna pulled the card back. He looked up at her just as the edges of her mouth twisted subtly into the coy smile he remembered. She held out the card again, letting him take it this time. "Enjoy the dinner." She smiled, letting him into the ballroom.

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Negi's table was with Kotarou at the back of the room, far away from the main table where the dubious award ceremony was being held. Several patrons of the charity were being honored for having come to more dinners for longer or more than anyone else. Negi dozed through the ceremony, instead trying not to focus on those around him.

"I hate these things." Said the man to his right, A balding, fat man, he spent most of his time talking, except when he was admiring Asuna and a few of the other younger ladies at the charity dinner. "I've been coming to these things for years. As the owner of four theaters, you've got to constantly have your fingers on the pulse of the community." He said disdainfully, taking s healthy sip from the half-full glass of clear and clearly alcoholic liquid. "I just want to get out of here and get me some tail, you know."

"Yeah…" Negi stumbled out in shock, looking away to his left. An older woman watched the proceedings with a shake of her head, a disgusted look on her face. "Not enjoying yourself?" Negi asked politely, leaning forward.

"No, young man, I am not." The woman said, turning proudly to him. "I find these petty little parties to be so tasteless. These people are here to help others because they want to pretend that they are good people, rather than the cut-throat bastards that they really are."

"Well, how would you run things differently?" Kotarou asked, genuinely curious of the conversation.

"I wouldn't." The woman said indignantly. "If you want to help someone, you should stay out of their lives. Those pathetic losers who ask for charity, they do not deserve our hard-earned money. If they wish to have a good home to live in and food on their table, they should work for it like everybody else."

"There aren't many jobs to be had." Negi tried to argue. "I, for one, have had . . ."

"Oh, whose side are you on?" The woman accused loudly, turning the heads at some of the adjacent tables. "There are plenty of jobs. They just don't look hard enough for them. If they wanted it bad enough, they could find it. They are just lazy, that's all. Lazy and stupid. And you shouldn't encourage them." She said, pointing a rickety old finger at Kotarou then at Negi. "Those good-for-nothing street people all drugged up and sexed up. You should be helping your own kind, not those vagrant good-for-nothings."

Negi stood up. "Ma'am, I'm sorry. It suddenly got very hard to swallow in here. I'm going to have to step outside." He stepped away from the table quickly, leaving her behind.

He only took only a few steps from the table when he saw Asuna excusing herself outside the ballroom. He glanced back at the nineteenth award being given out and the fourth speech for it and he headed to follow her.

Outside, the comparatively bland and quiet hallways of the convention center echoed with each step. But as Negi stepped completely out of the doors, he found Asuna leaning against a pillar, staring directly at him. The same coy smile had returned while her red hair draped over the left side of her face. "So, I see you've met Mrs. Dayton." She said with a low, soft voice.  
"Is that how she is?" Negi asked, glancing back at the door as he slowly approached Asuna. "For a moment, I thought she was kidding."

"Oh no." She said, standing up luxuriantly from the pillar. "She's quite serious. A friend of mine once told me she needed some money, and I told her to go to lovely Mrs. Dayton and tell her that she was collecting money for the 'send-poor-people-to-the-sun' fund."

"Yeah, that'd probably work." He nodded. Just a few feet apart from each other, Negi stood before Asuna, trying to hide his shallow, weak breaths. "So, how late do these events usually run?"  
"Oh, this one will probably last until eleven or so, if not later." She smiled acceptingly. "There's got to be plenty of time to pat everyone on the back, whether they deserve it or not."

"Fair enough, I suppose," Negi shrugged, "But what about you?"

"What about me?" She asked, looking up at him.

"What are you doing after the dinner?"

"Oh, I've got to help clean up and sort and count the money and all of that." She said, her confidence fading somewhat in the light of imposed responsibilities.

"Ah." Negi nodded, watching her every expression. "I was hoping maybe we could go out for some dinner or something." He tried to ask, but his voice faded up a bit on the last few words.

Asuna looked up at him, brushing her hair out of her eyes so she could stare at him with her full intensity. "Didn't you just have dinner?" She asked.

"Yeah, but that was terrible." He laughed in a vain attempt to relieve some tension. "I mean something that actually tastes good."

"I see." She nodded. "And what tastes good to you?" She asked, her voice lowering just a bit.

Negi swallowed, feeling his face burning red. Suddenly though, he chuckled. "Green tea and ice cream."

Asuna's eyebrow went up. "Okay, there were a lot of directions I thought you might take that comment. That wasn't one of them."

Negi laughed at her confusion and his own oddity. "You've never had green tea and mint ice cream?"

"No." She said, unable to keep from laughing.

"I know it sounds disgusting, but it's really good." He said.

"Where'd you try that?" Asuna laughed. "Was it some kind of dare?"

Those words echoed inside Negi's mind. And for a moment, the image of the girl in the picture superimposed itself on Asuna. His smile faded, but he forced it back before the young woman before him could even notice the change. "Come on. We could go get some." He said, trying his hardest to sound natural.

She laughed, but shook her head. "I can't." She maintained sadly. "I wish I could. I really do. But I can't. I've got to help my sister."

Negi nodded. "I understand." He looked back at the ballroom, then to her. "Well, I think I've talked to at least half those people and none of them are interested in helping out a starving writer with my aspirations."

"I'll ask around and see if I can find anyone looking for some hip, fresh new writings." She smiled sincerely. "But go have your mint ice cream and green tea." She put her hands on Negi's lapels and smiled into his eyes. "And I'll see you soon."

And she stood up and turned her head just slightly, kissing him gently on the cheek.

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The sounds of the typing echoed off the smile on Negi's face.

The writer read the story on the screen, releasing a short, intense burst of clacking as his fingers pushed the keys in successive manner. He moved in a few times, causing a rapid barrage of clicks before he moved back, letting his hands continue to type. He took a deep breath, counting off the pages of his following story.

As he kept typing, he glanced over to the windows, to see the early morning sun rising at the edge of the green horizon of trees. He glanced back at the tuxedo that hung from his bathroom door, as if it was as energized by the previous evening as he.

Negi turned his attention back to the screen and started to speed up the typing. He kept pace with the story in his head, keeping characters and situations up to speed with his imagination. The ideas hit the walls, reverberating back at him, the power of his imagination keeping him company.

With a grand explosion of a gasp, he moved back from the keyboard, bringing the story to an end. He laughed at his own breathlessness as he held his left forearm, flexing his fingers powerfully. He groaned in delight, then bent down in front of the keyboard.

He hit the save button on the program, the disk drive releasing a single floppy disk. He put the disk into the case and slid in a new floppy disk into the now-unoccupied drive.

Negi sat in the corner of the room, the large computer that was normally covered by a stack of clothes and magazines turned on, its ancient screen of green and black displaying the archaic program. He typed in a fast control of the mouse less computer, stringing together a consistent sequence of files, many of them duplicates. He typed over and over, forming a visual web on the screen of the files pushed together.

Finally, he smiled as he stared at the files. He didn't even bother running the spell check program. He simply pulled the plug out of the computer and walked to his stereo. He turned it on, and then looked back at the screen. Laid down on his bed and fell to sleep.

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Well what do you guys think? Pretty bad huh? Well come on, what do you guys expect? So who else should make an appearance for dear Negi's heart? Let me know, kay?


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